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In Conversation with Brice Guilbert
Born in 1979 in Montpellier and having grown up on the tropical Island of La Réunion, French artist Brice Guilbert merges abstraction and his creole heritage to create lyrical paintings.
Standing at the intersection of human experience and the natural world he uses various highly pigmented oil sticks on wood to create layered, gestural marks, imbuing each semi-abstract rendering of a volcano with different moods and resonances. Using abstraction as a means of engaging with meditative, spiritual and philosophical understandings of nature, his work showcases an ineffable, nostalgic quality that defies any fixed narrative.
His meticulous, repeated hand-drawn renditions of the same image mirror the techniques of artists like Andy Warhol, who utilised screen printing to replicate their artworks. This process blurs the lines between human creativity and mechanical reproduction, questioning the roles of the artist and the machine in the contemporary artistic process.
This month, we sat down with the artist to discuss his inclusion in our latest exhibition, ‘Double Take’.
LVH: Your ongoing series, Fournez, presents the recurring motif of a volcano. Can you tell us a bit more about where this symbol comes from?
BG: I lived my entire childhood in the south of the Réunion Island in the town of Saint-Joseph. Located very close to the foot of the volcano Le Piton de la Fournaise, this image corresponds to one of the landscape in which I grew up. From this geographical point of view, it is not possible to see the volcanic eruptions, nevertheless the impact of their presence was sufficient to give rise to a recurring motif in painting for me.
LVH: Despite the repetition of the image, each work presents a striking individuality. How did you come to explore repetition in your work? Does this theme hold a particular significance for you?
BG: I have been exploring repetition for a very long time in my work, the series being most often limited in time to one or two years. In my practice I have often worn out subjects quickly. It has only been since 2016, having completely found myself with this subject, that I stopped to develop it. In this continuous practice I have not yet found myself in the situation of boredom. And it is precisely in the search for intrinsic qualities specific to each painting that it is a question of reinventing one’s own process so as not to go in circles. First of all, I try to take great pleasure in making each painting and to treat it as a unique piece.
Concerning this eruptive and volcanic theme, it was first of all a question of evaluating its authenticity and originality. The theme has not been developed serially in the history of art or at least not in such a concise and repetitive manner. Some painters have developed this subject from several points of view but not by repeating the same point of view.
LVH: Your work is being presented alongside a Shadow painting by Andy Warhol. Famous for his expansive production through screen-printing, his intention was to reproduce the same image an infinite number of times. Have you ever considered his practice an inspiration? Were you inspired by any other artist included in the show?
BG: Andy Warhol is obviously a reference in terms of repetition and expansion of the subject and concerning the limits of use that can be made of painting.
For my part, I develop a single subject in relation to a place from my childhood, this story inevitably plunges me into an intimate relationship with this symbol. Andy Warhol is an inspiration for a whole generation of artists who succeeded him because he engages the creative process and the gesture in new relationships. It can be seen as a liberation as much as a defeat of the imagination. In any case, I like seeing it like that.
LVH: Your works have a profound physical aspect, your thick applications and layering of oil sticks build a texture that provides them an organic nature. Have you ever thought of exploring other media or production techniques? Have you ever considered exploring digital tools in your practice?
BG: I haven’t really considered it for my painting practice. The only digital tools that I have been able to use are in relation to my music. I have produced various albums of songs since 2005, the recording and production of these records was possible thanks to these tools. I mainly play acoustic instruments, but digital sound interfaces have allowed me to make recordings.
LVH: Another artist in the show, Oliver Beer, uses music to create his paintings, being a musician and singer yourself, has it ever informed your practice of painting?
BG: There is a priori no direct correlation between my musical practice and my pictorial practice. However, the theme of Reunion Island, of Creole roots, of my identity is a common thread in all my work. Even if my music does not influence my painting, these two practices feed off each other and allow me to consider different transports towards these Reunion landscapes.
LVH: Following your inclusion in our show, do you have any upcoming projects?
BG: My next project is the publication of a monograph in collaboration with Zolo Press, which will come out later this year. This book will bring together around a hundred paintings created since the beginning of my series entitled Fournez.
In Conversation with Emanuel de Carvalho
London-based painter Emanuel de Carvalho has not had the most traditional journey to becoming an artist. He began his career in the medical field, first obtaining a Doctorate Degree (PhD) in Medicine from the University of Amsterdam and then postgraduate studies in neuro-ophthalmology at University College London.
His unique approach as an artist is deeply rooted in investigation, no doubt ingrained from his rigorous medical studies.
Through his work, De Carvalho aims to challenge and question the structures of vision, presenting an alternative perspective that extends beyond conventional notions of representation. His work is deeply rooted in engagement with philosophical texts on sexuality and gender, medicalisation, institutional power, disidentification, anarchy and human consciousness, with particular emphasis on the works of Michel Foucault, José Esteban Muñoz, Catherine Malabou, António Damásio and Kathy Acker.
This month, we sat down with Emanuel to discuss his recent group show with Hauser & Wirth, his upcoming solo show in London and how his move from science into painting has informed his creative approach.
LVH: Was becoming an artist something you always considered or was it later on, after completing your medical studies, that you decided toswitch careers?
EDC: My trajectory is indeed unusual, but I prefer to view it as a personal journey of discovery. There was a time when medicine was my primary focus; however, during that period, I was also engaged in fictional writing and drawing. I do not perceive medicine and an artistic practice as entirely disjointed; rather, I became an artist because I felt compelled to explore an alternative research output through painting and sculpture, one that would incorporate knowledge from other fields of thought, mostly philosophy. I am afraid medicine does not offer all the answers.
LVH: Have your medical studies informed any part of your creative practice?
EDC: I studied the human brain, specifically focusing on visual and cognitive processing. I have also seen patients whose perceptual responses are abnormal due to pathological processes. When faced with this, you can’t help but wonder about reality and the structures that dictate our thought process. I started questioning everything, dissecting my very own negative associations in the context of my own environment and upbringing. I learnt that Michel Foucault talks extensively about this, the individual process of reflection as a way to find your own moral code.
In my work, compositions feature unconventional orientations, colours are muted, reminiscent of urban environments, human figures are depicted in isolation, engulfed by architectural forms, and there are vacant spaces seemingly beyond reach. These elements collectively allude to aspects of human cognitive and visual processing. Disruption as a vehicle to raise awareness.
LVH: There has been fast momentum to your career since graduating from the RCA last year. How have you navigated incoming opportunities? Did you feel pressure to join a gallery?
EDC: I have been fortunate to exhibit my work across various platforms and countries. I am keenly aware of the importance of proceeding cautiously and thoughtfully, making decisions that are well-structured and deliberate. It is crucial to invest time in defining a focus, understanding one’s objectives, and collaborating with individuals who share a similar vision. Personally, I value having a theoretical framework to guide my approach to work, although I acknowledge that this can sometimes pose challenges, especially when collaborating with galleries. However, I have observed a growing interest in research-driven practices, even within the realm of painting.
LVH: Your work is deeply rooted in engagement with philosophical texts. I’m curious why you think these texts serve as such a strong source of inspiration for you? How do you go about transforming the written word into a purely visual medium?
EDC: My approach to philosophy is that of a consumer, offering an alternative route to analysing what is happening in society. It is a way of dissecting the reasons behind my beliefs. For instance, the philosopher Michel Foucault talks about the power of institutional structures in moral code, stating that one can only be aware of this influence but cannot escape it. Catherine Malabou, known for applying neurological principles in philosophical theories, proposes an alternative view, in which the human brain is seen as a ‘plastic’ entity, constantly in flux and capable of change. I am not certain she would agree, but I believe this is a positive and optimistic view on the power of the individual.
In my works, I often respond to very specific concepts in philosophy and medicine, translating a text into the language of painting or sculpture. For example, institutional power is depicted by the use of geometrical shapes, reminiscent of logos of corporations. Other times, the reference to philosophy is more subdued and personal. I depict a narrative that is deemed as a significant moment of change or reflection (askesis in the words of Michel Foucault).
LVH: You are currently part of a group show at Hauser & Wirth Somerset, titled ‘Present Tense’. How did this come about given that you are not represented by H&W?
EDC: Present Tense brings together a group of young artists living and working in the United Kingdom. I share a sense of community and values with many of the exhibited artists, and I believe this to be main intent of the show: to give a platform to practices that respond to what is happening in society at the present time. I have been working on a reading circle session with the Learning team at Hauser & Wirth where I discuss my work in relation to the work of Kathy Acker, Antonio Damasio and Michel Foucault.
LVH: You have an upcoming solo show in London with Gathering. Could you speak about the focus for this exhibition? What other projects do you have on the horizon?
EDC: The show at Gathering, titled ‘code new state’, will present a new series of monumental paintings alongside two sculptural installations. The works reflect on perception as a neurobiological construct and explore the concept of plasticity, as described by the philosopher Catherine Malabou. It will act as the first iteration of a future collaboration with Malabou and the UCL Professor of Neurology, Parashkev Nachev.
The compositions and sculptures are characterised by subtle distortions of perspective and depth, and create a sense of unreality and discomfort. I would like to think of this show as a vehicle to raise awareness to perception.
LVH Art In Conversation With Rising Star Katherina Olschbaur
The Los Angeles based artist Katherina Olschbaur conjures seductive canvases of Surrealist resonance.
Her paintings linger between abstraction and figuration to conceive an unprecedented image orgy of feminine bodies, horned beasts and fetish garments; where her animalistic figures revel in beauty and brutality as to examine the polarities that give our existence meaning.
Using the body as a site of repressed desire, Katherina Olschbaur illuminates her own narratives regarding gender, power and sexuality, revealing a new understanding of female body language that questions, disrupts and dismantles the stereotypes and prejudices perpetuated by society’s ongoing expectations on women. Hence, in a spree of delicate hues and radiant shades, Olschbaur’s work explores the violence of power dynamics within a patriarchal order, subverting the status quo in both contemporary art and contemporary culture by drawing together mythology, religion and art historical references.
“As a woman, you are always multiple personalities; you learn how to live in the world: to adapt, to define, to give, to take, and to demand.”
Katherina Olschbaur
Born in Austria in 1983, Olschbaur studied painting at the University of Applied Arts in Vienna, lived for one year in London and spent four months in Tel Aviv. In 2017 she had her first solo show in Los Angeles and has since divided her time between the comfort of her home country in the sophisticated European capital of Vienna and the erotic Babylon that is the scandalous city of LA, where she is represented by Nicodim Gallery; a powerful cultural contrast sure to provoke a thoughtful reaction, in Olschbaur’s case, a great creative output of infinite possibilities that brings to her studio exponential success, and a very sensual allure.
LVH: Given all the different places you have lived in and all the cultures you have encountered, how do you feel this upbringing has influenced your career as an artist? What have you taken from each?
KO: I left my home after seventeen. I had this hunger to educate myself; I wanted to challenge myself, and everything seemed too limiting for me. I wanted to learn to live amongst a wider history of artists, writers, and musicians. Mentally, I placed myself in their world. I spent years living a very bohemian life. I was always a serious painter. I had local collectors and friends buying my work, but it took a long time for me to get my finances to a place where I could leave. For a long time, I couldn’t afford a really good studio, so I took accepted grants that allowed me to work for a couple of months in different places.
Vienna is a place full of secrets; it was never a place of safety for me. My time there, while formative and nourishing, eventually made me feel creatively asphyxiated. The culture is so rich in terms of literature, theatre, language, culture, and radical criticism; however, it is an inherently heterogeneous culture. It suppresses much of its diversity and potential. This suppression can get very self-destructive. It can be extremely draining to see how closed off the culture is to progress and inclusion, especially in the new nationalist and conservative trends. Leaving Vienna helped me connect with certain aspects of Austrian culture in a less draining way. I have found that to be Austrian is to have a more melancholic take on history and the present time as well as to have a sense for beauty, for criticism, and a penchant for the night.
LVH: You currently live and work between Vienna and LA, do you have a studio in each of these cities? Do you go to one for inspiration and to another one for action? Could you walk us through your creative process?
KO: I am now mostly based in Los Angeles where I have my studio. I love it here. I take a lot of inspiration from the color, light, and specific atmosphere. I learned a lot being in this city this year: amidst a civil rights movement, COVID-19, and the threat of fires. I have Vienna on my mind—somehow stored in my memory and whole personality—but I am not there very often in person.
My relocation to Los Angeles was the most important thing that I ever did for my art. I had to completely reinvent my work. In this city, I realized the importance of color for my work. I became more confident—possibly because I took such a big step. Los Angeles has also given me and my work ideas of the dirty Babylon, superficiality, the closeness between paradise and its failure, neon of the night, vastness, and emptiness.
My painting is excessively research based. I had different stages in developing my oeuvre; at some point, I wanted to unlearn everything. This process, of learning and unlearning, solidified my understanding of what I do. Drawing helps me to memorize, play, confront, and erase. When I paint, I first need to forget everything again. I think in terms of color, space, and volume, and I impose narrative on top of these elements. I have always been interested in theatrical light within painting—a cold light, like in expressionist stages or a film noir—as well as expressive brush work.
LVH: You identify yourself as a female artist. Is this an empowering circumstance or has it ever been a challenge?
KO: There is a lot of focus now on being a female artist. This can be a double-edged sword. You are elevated in terms of interest at this moment, but you are being put into a sub-category. It definitely has been a challenge—especially in Austria, but the challenge persists in the U.S. People don’t automatically trust in your capabilities in that way that they would if you were a man. I take a lot of strength from this particular obstacle, however. As a woman, you don’t have the security of a single personality; you are always multiple personalities; you learn how to live in the world: to adapt, to define, to give, to take, and to demand. However, because I am white, I am very aware of the fact that I have certain privileges.
LVH: Your art has been frequently associated with feminism and Surrealism, in particular Freudian theory, how do these philosophies combine and nurture each other?
KO: I like to play them out against each other.
LVH: You often use religious and art historical references, how do you employ these symbols and what is it that you are trying to illuminate, or, correct, in doing so?
KO: To me, religious imagery has more than one meaning. My father was a pastor, so there is a familiarity to the motifs of religion; instinctually, however, I am very critical of any form of institution or authority. Religious paintings grapple with themes that I also engage with: desire, disbelief, doubt, and sensuality. I am also interested in hierarchies and devotion, authority and rebellion, or generally the internal struggles of good and evil that one often sees play out in religious narrative. Baroque, mannerist, or renaissance paintings unlock something for me, visually, for the way I handle paint. It has to do with visual fullness, volume, light, and a sense of anti-gravity in the the figures. I build compositions intuitively—looking at a few sources at the same time, listening to music and rhythms, and building color and atmosphere in layers. I want these elements to talk to each other.
LVH: What are your main artistic influences?
KO: El Greco, Dürer, Tintoretto, Maria Lassnig, Miriam Cahn, German macho painting, Baroque, Renaissance, mannerist paintings, religious paintings, costumes, Futurism, theatricality, night dancers and film noir.
LVH: What are you reading right now?
KO: Virginie Despentes King Kong Theory, David Wojnarowicz Close to the knifes, Octavia Butler, Assata Shakur Diaries, Albrecht Dürer Diaries.
LVH: Could you tell us more about your recent shows, and how one led to the other, how is your practice developing?
KO: In Horses (2018) and Divine Hermaphrodite (2019) I placed hybrids of human, animal, and object in a wide and open space of color. In my museum Show Dirty Elements at the Contemporary Arts Center Gallery, UC Irvine (2020), I introduced religious imagery and faces on my figures for the first time. There were also themes of fetish, desire, and a dynamic challenging of the human figure in relation to power, the earth, and the sky. In Tortured Ecstasies, I am pushing forward some of these ideas and including small formats again. I think the compositions became more complex and my control of color got stronger. I’m always learning as I go.
LVH: Where did you spend the lockdown? Was it a fruitful experience or how did it make you feel?
KO: I spent the lockdown in Los Angeles. My studio building was closed for more than two months, so I had to work from the kitchen area of our one room apartment. Eventually, a dear friend generously gave me her unused studio to work in. It was a challenge at first, but it helped me develop a stronger formal language for the small canvases. It was illuminating to focus on the work in isolation and make sure that it was something that really felt true to what I intended.
LVH: What is your opinion on the art world going digital? Do you like to see your artworks in online shows?
KO: It bores me to see shows online. IG, however, has become our reality. The art world hasn’t created anything new in this sense. The most common way that we encounter art now is through reproduced images. Sensually this mode of viewing is very thin. We have to memorize or imagine materiality. I do find it exciting to have access to different art around the world and a new audience for your own work, but I like to build a context or narrative within a real space. I also like to work with mistakes that don’t exist in these perfectly rendered spaces. The virtual space does have the potential to open experimental new doors, however.
LVH: Any upcoming projects you would like to tell us about.
KO: I have a solo exhibition coming up in May at Union Pacific gallery, London; and my work will be shown at a group show in Ramp Gallery, London, opening the 26th of November. My next solo at Nicodim Gallery will happen in December of 2021. I also have an upcoming two person show that hasn’t been announced yet and some projects coming up in Japan.
In Conversation with Jamiu Agboke on his Dreamlike Landscapes
LVH Art recently spoke with London-based artist Jamiu Agboke, whose captivating landscapes, rendered in murky deep greens and rich earthy tones on copper and aluminum capture the sensations of moving through a space.
His canvases are dynamic compositions of energetic mark-making, transforming our perception of environment and time. In our conversation, Jamiu shares insights on the influence of dreams in his work, the inspiration he drew from a Dinah Washington song, how his shift to painting on metal has transformed his process, and more.
He has two upcoming shows in 2025 — first at VIN VIN Vienna in March, followed by a show at Massimo De Carlo in Paris in May.
LVH Art: In all of your work, there is this sense of movement, could you elaborate on that and explain what you’re trying to express through it?
Jamiu Agboke: My work focuses on the experience of moving through a space rather than just depicting it. I’m interested in capturing the feeling of a place, what it’s like to be there rather than the exact details. A lot of the scenes come from memory or dreams, which gives them a fleeting quality, like trying to recall something after the moment has passed. My paintings are landscapes, but they often blend reality with elements of imagination to express that sense of transition and movement.
LVH Art: Do you typically work en plein air, or do you prefer using photographs as a reference?
Jamiu Agboke: I don’t do either of those things. I prefer to draw from life, and I still go out to draw because I enjoy it and find it a good exercise, which lends to my painting practice, but it is separate from my studio process. I don’t work from photographs because they’re static—they freeze a single moment in time, which misses the shifting light, atmosphere, and movement of a place. A photograph can feel too fixed, whereas the work is about capturing the experience of being in a space.
LVH Art: Are there any activities that help inspire or influence your work?
Jamiu Agboke: Drawing definitely plays a role, but I also find energy in activities like running, walking, and hiking. Being in motion, especially in nature, helps me connect with the spaces I paint. I don’t treat these activities as “data collection”. I’m not going to Hampstead Heath to photograph autumn leaves, for example. I’m there to experience the place. The more I move through spaces, the easier it is to capture that feeling in my work. When I’m too stagnant, painting becomes more challenging because I lose that sense of connection.
LVH Art: To what extent is your work influenced by dreams?
Jamiu Agboke: I often don’t realize a painting is tied to a dream until it’s finished, almost like uncovering something hidden during the process. The work is also bound by chance, as shapes, colors, and ideas emerge as I paint, and I follow them intuitively rather than planning everything in advance. Occasionally, I’ve painted something I clearly remembered from a dream, but that’s rare. It’s usually about piecing together fragments from memory, imagination, and the unexpected moments that arise during the process.
LVH Art: Could you elaborate on the surfaces you paint on and how the variation in your brushstrokes contributes to the overall effect of your paintings? For example, in Valley (diptych) 2, we can see how the brushstrokes in the river are long and fluid, while the shorter, more brash strokes in the dark green grass to the right create a strong contrast.
Jamiu Agboke: I paint on metal because it offers a different kind of interaction with the paint. Unlike canvas, which absorbs and slows the paint down, metal lets the brushstrokes sit on the surface more directly. This makes me more deliberate in how I layer and build the painting. The surface has a certain responsiveness that mirrors the movement and texture I’m trying to capture. For me, varied brushstrokes are like building a composition where every element plays a role, long strokes, shorter marks, and thicker textures work together to give the painting depth and energy.
LVH Art: Where There Used to Be Rain (2024) also has a beautiful range of brushstrokes. It’s a great work, could you tell us more about it and your approach to creating it?
Jamiu Agboke: The title Where There Used to Be Rain comes from a line in Dinah Washington’s song What a Difference a Day Makes. I heard the song on my way to the studio, and it stayed with me throughout the day. The mood of the song, its mix of lightness and melancholy, felt like a perfect match for the painting. It wasn’t that the music directly inspired the work, but the way it balances reflection and change that resonated with the themes I was working through. The title felt right because it captured the emotional tone of the piece.
LVH Art: How has your practice evolved over time? For example, at one point, figures were present in your work, but your most recent works seem to be devoid of figures entirely. Perhaps you could speak about this transition?
Jamiu Agboke: Over time, my approach and focus have shifted. Early on, I included figures in my work, but I found they anchored the narrative too much. They made the painting about the person rather than the space or surface. Now, I’m more interested in creating open-ended works that leave room for interpretation. Removing figures has allowed me to focus more on the interplay between texture, color, and movement. My materials have also evolved. I moved from painting on canvas to working on metal, which has completely changed my process. Metal requires more precision and doesn’t allow for endless reworking like canvas does. This shift has pushed me to make more deliberate decisions, which I think has helped my work mature.
LVH Art: When did you shift from painting on linen canvas to metal, and what makes it more challenging?
Jamiu Agboke: I started painting on metal about a year and a half ago. It’s not a new material historically, especially copper, but it requires a different level of control. On canvas, the paint can be endlessly adjusted, which sometimes makes it harder to stop. Metal doesn’t give you that leeway—it holds the paint in place more quickly, so I have to commit to my decisions. That limitation keeps me focused and makes the process feel more intentional.
LVH Art: You have a show coming up next year with Vin Vin in Vienna, and with Massimo De Carlo in Paris. Could you tell us what you are working on for those shows or if there are any themes you are exploring?
Jamiu Agboke: In terms of planning ahead, I can’t really say what’s going to happen till after the works have been made. The same goes for shows too. Right now, I’m simply exploring, but I’m excited to exhibit in Vienna and Paris, given its rich history in painting.
LVH Art in conversation with artist Hugo McCloud
Born in Palo Alto California in 1980, Hugo McCloud is one of the rising stars of the New York art scene today. A self-taught artist, his practice is influenced by his background in industrial design, and hence unrestricted by academic tenets.
By fusing unconventional industrial materials such as metal, bronze or tar paper, McCloud creates his vibrant large scale paintings, which stem from the artist’s travels around the world and the cultures he has encountered along the way.
His newest body of work touches on notions of class particularly through his use of plastic bags, continuing his practice of incorporating industrial materials using plastic as a tool to unite people and better understand our similarities and differences as a human race; to connect our environment; and to contribute to reversing the negative impact of our carbon footprint.
LVH: You have a background in industrial design, how has this upbringing influenced your practice as an artist? Did your early paintings bounce off design ideas?
HM: My journey as a designer started off because my mother had an interior design store in California where she sold fountains. Having dropped out of business school, I started helping her at the store, and years later I found myself with my own full fabrication shop, designing and manufacturing furniture for residential and commercial properties. During those very successful years, I learnt and trained myself in furniture design, and I developed a strong knowledge on wood, metal, bronze and stone work. As a designer /fabricator that deals with various materials you tend to have a lot more to pull from. When you understand materials and tools you can then manipulate them from their original purpose, and everything I do now as an artist stems out of that awareness and practice.
LVH: When did you know that it was time to step away from industrial design and into painting?
HM: The trigger to becoming an artist was very much a “click”. I had the opportunity of turning my design store into a very serious business as my projects were getting larger and larger. The issue was that with time I found myself becoming a manager but really hands off in the actual fabrication and the artisan aspect of the business, and I knew that what I actually wanted to do was creating, so I decided that I wanted to find my avenue in fine art where I continually have the ability to evolve my own creativity without being tight to any sort of guidelines.
My first paintings grew out of a trip to South Africa in 2003, when I got to see the Shendeti houses for the first time. I was fascinated by their architecture, and so with all the scrap materials I had from my design projects, I started making my first Metal Paintings, which are an abstraction of the walls of the Shendeti houses. For a few years I split my time between working on my design projects and dabbling in fine art, and in 2009 I decided that it was to move to New York and pursue my artistic career seriously.
LVH: How would you describe the relationship between you and the materials you use? and what is it that you are trying to address through its use?
HM: All of my stuff is material based, I like the idea of finding beauty in the things that are overlooked, or the things not commonly found beautiful. So that is another reason for me to use the materials that I use. With whatever material I choose to employ, I always question: how do I take this common material that is not really created to produce art, but is more so created for some sort of human necessity and manipulate it, and what are the possibilities of this material? I look at the material as a tool. But I honestly don’t know where it will lead until I actually start creating with it.
“I like the idea of finding beauty in the things that are overlooked, or the things not commonly found beautiful.”
Hugo McCloud
LVH: I have read that you travel a lot. How have your trips inspired you to create new bodies of work?
HM: Before the pandemic I used to travel a lot and create from the visuals around me. I love visiting different regions and immersing myself in their culture. I don’t want to pick up patterns that I have no relation to, and so I get involved and work closely with their people and communities. Traveling to me is the biggest form of education and inspiration. I simply like to see how things are done in different cultures.
The paintings in my last show Burdened at Sean Kelly were all created in my studio in Tulum, where I have been spending the lockdown. With Covid-19 travel restrictions, I was forced to pivot and source images from the internet, drawing inspiration from photographs of people performing their daily tasks and engaged in labor critical to their survival, whether it be collecting refuse, transporting fruit and other goods, or recycling oil. My desire in this new body of work is to address the economics of labor through the medium of plastic and how it passes through the hands of individuals at every level of society.
“Traveling to me is the biggest form of education and inspiration.”
Hugo McCloud
LVH: When talking about artistic inspirations, which artists speak to your heart the most?
HM: When I started my fine art career I was mainly drawn to the Arte Povera movement, simply because I had a profound awareness and comprehension of what those artists where doing due to my design background. Jannis Kounellis was perhaps my main inspiration. Nowadays, I am very fond of the work of Leonardo Drew and Mark Bradford.
LVH: I have heard you say before that all of your work is kind of process oriented. Could you walk us through this process?
HM: I begin by deciding on the subject matter, the topic that I want to discuss and the conversation that I am trying to have with the audience. Then I choose a photograph which encapsulates what I intend to portray, either from my travels, or sourced from the internet. Once I select that image, I do all sorts of editing using photoshop and other computer programs, and once it is ready, I project it into the panels, which I use instead of canvases. I often do some more alterations by hand, and once the outline is ready, I choose the colours, the materials and the layers and prepare them. And once everything is ready it becomes almost like, you paint by number, following the plan and the outline.
LVH: The paintings in your show at Sean Kelly are quite figurative, in contrast to your previous work which was much more abstract. Could you tell us more about this new body of work and how does it relate to your previous, more abstract ones?
HM: I’ve been developing the same themes for years, working with industrial materials to suggest situations. But one aspect of my work has clearly changed since the move—my use of colour and my turn to figuration. I am connecting the dots in a way that not everybody would understand unless they actually take full interest and time in understanding the meaning of all the other different bodies of work but I am still using a material to manipulate, to make art. But now I am taking the abstraction out of the picture, before I was looking at different environments, situations and images and abstracting them and then making either the Stamp paintings or the Metal paintings, so the reference that I had outside of the studio were these kind of global situations or environments that I had experienced through my travels. And with my new body of work, the plastic paintings, what they really are is me being impatient for people to understand what the abstraction work is about. I really love abstract work because it gives you the freedom to create whatever you want to create. What I am doing now is more so you see exactly what I am creating, it is figurative.
I created this show which is a very literal representation of what my abstractions are about, but what I really am trying to do is to have a link between both. I really want to continue to develop my abstract language and have a balance between my figurative work and my abstract work. I want to continue my creative research, I look at the success of being an artist as the freedom to continually put yourself in environments that are unfamiliar, and develop your own take on.
“I look at the success of being an artist as the freedom to continually put yourself in environments that are unfamiliar, and develop your own take on.”
Hugo McCloud
LVH Art in Conversation with cellist-turned-artist Jorinde Voigt
Jorinde Voigt is a Berlin-based artist best known for her large scale drawings that develop complex notation systems derived from music, philosophy, and phenomenology.
Working primarily within the medium of drawing, Jorinde Voigt’s works have been described as notational thought models which provide a pictorial form to an array of phenomena, and a means through which to explore individual perception, achieving a fascinating effect on the viewer. For many years in her youth, Voigt trained classically as a cellist, and, as a student of philosophy, she used musical notations as stand-ins for concepts that she didn’t understand through language alone. Her art practice today represents an expansion of this impulse, and a quest for truth through visual composition, visible in her spirited drawings and sculptures. Jorinde Voigt was born in Frankfurt and lives and works in Berlin. Her work is part of some of the most prominent public art collections worldwide, including the Museum of Modern Art, New York; Art Institute of Chicago, IL; Centre Pompidou, Paris, France; or The British Museum, London.
LVH: In the past, you have studied philosophy, sociology, modern literature and music. How do you blend all these different disciplines together into a visual form? What do you take from each?
JV: Every topic that one dedicates oneself to requires the use of knowledge from a wide variety of sciences in order to be able to take as diverse a perspective as possible. For example, if I am interested in the subject of “rhythmic field”, then I have direct links to music in the sense of time signature / beat, motif. At the same time, mathematical aspects are involved in extrapolating or playing through the possible forms, for calculating proportions, quantities, and possible variations. And in order to understand the topic from a perceptual point of view, I have to find it in myself, as an experience and as a physical (breathing, pulse), medical (organ function and interaction), biological (generation), spiritual – energetic (condition), physical (matter), psychological (psychosomatic, pattern formation, communication), cosmic (materiality), collective and sociological fact (culture). One can say that nothing is not of interest in the accompanying process for developing a topic.
LVH: During your early artistic career you were experimenting a lot with the medium of photography, how did this influence what you do now?
JV: The work is still visually orientated.
LVH: Do you also look at art history to find inspiration, what would you say are your main artistic influences?
JV: Lately, I’ve been most fascinated by Cy Twombly. Based on his work, I suddenly realised that we carry every age we have been in at the same time. In his work you can see the haptic action of a 3-year-old, next to tabular calculations of a young adult, at the same time suddenly senile letters fall out of words, self-doubts of a 40-year-old are celebrated and multiple corrections are made on each other, or outside of any age a gesture is very naturally and repeatedly executed, so profane and irreversible, so sensitive and final at the same time. That changed my whole idea of life. That we are not 1,… 10,… .20,… .30,… .40… .years old, but 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 6 + 7 + 8 etc. Well, others probably have always known that —
But I would also like to be able to paint in this entirety.
LVH: Music is a very important aspect in your work, indeed, when I visited your studio last fall during Berlin Gallery weekend, I remember you were painting to the sound of a techno soundtrack. Later on I learned that before turning to art, you were trained as a classical cellist. What is your relationship with music nowadays? Do you always listen to music while painting? Do you feel like the music that you are listening to, somehow dictates the outcome of the drawing that you are working on?
JV: Music is a space that allows us to be free without getting lost. Each music is structure, being the net under the rope on which we dance.
LVH: There is a certain fluidity and performative aspect to your work which I personally find fascinating. Before starting a drawing, or a series, do you have an idea in mind which sort of spontaneously develops once you begin the piece? Or is everything carefully thought of before you put your hands on the paper?
JV: Every single action is conceptually very carefully considered, but always consciously includes the aspect of the spontaneous, also knowingly that this could not be excluded anyway, I am alive while I am doing this, and I work from a concrete direct movement of my body onto the paper. The thought has to go through me completely before it shows up in the form of color or writing on the paper. In the course of time the “concept” became more and more a “concept of action”, that is performative. The previous thought is an immersive impact through the body and the body the direct continuation of the brain. My knowledge, my experience, my perception, my ability to resonate, my ability to learn is not only stored and active in my brain, but in the entire body and organism and its radius.
LVH: As we mentioned before, your drawings deal with the idea of how every individual’s sense of reality and perception differs from one another. Unsurprisingly, I recently learned that you have synaesthesia – a condition where the senses cross over and blend- How do you feel like your work embodies this peculiarity about your persona?
JV: The space in which my works are located corresponds to the musical space, I think. Music always creates concrete abstract colours and shapes in me.
LVH: You recently started making sculptures, or perhaps the right terminology would be mobiles, as they hang from the ceiling. The first time I had a chance to see these in person I was fascinated by the visual dialogue between them and your drawings. Walking into the exhibition space almost felt like walking into an immersive installation. Could you tell us more about the relationship between these two practices?
JV: In parallel to notation and painting, there have always been objects. These are directly related to work on paper. Mostly it is about a review or continuation of a thought in 3D and in matter. This makes new aspects possible and visible and completes the topic. Sculptural things usually arise at the point when a topic is almost finished, as the climax of a confrontation.
LVH: Any upcoming projects you would like to tell us about?
JV: I am currently showing my work in two solo shows in Seoul at P21 and King Seoul. The Korean context is very exciting for me and absolutely fascinating to see how the work is read there, whether the archetypical is conveyed, across language barriers and past history that partly has parallels in the media I use, but appears as an entirely different face.
I’m currently preparing my next solo shows with David Nolan in New York and the Moody Art Center in Houston, Texas. For this I work on the development of rhythmic fields. I imagine that every pulse, every beat, every interference is already there in an infinitely continuous manner, and every music that is there is a kind of message or report from this spectrum.
In the exhibition in Seoul, my most recent works on Beethoven deal with precisely this aspect. And of course it is the infinite joy in trying to make these structures visible, and in trying out what is possible to do with them, what qualities and possibilities unfold in front of oneself. I still have a lot to do…
LVH in conversation with artists Lucas Dupuy & Jack Warne
With the growing presence of technology and artificial intelligence in our daily life, our perception of reality is constantly questioned and challenged. What was once considered an unalterable truth can now be falsified or purposely constructed by image production algorithms and machines.
Artists have been observing this rapid evolution from its epicentre. Straying away from its presence or embracing its benefits, they unanimously had to consider the impact it would have on their practice, as a detrimental or expansive tool of creation.
This month we sat down with British artists: Lucas Dupuy and Jack Warne, to discuss the impact of technology on their work, their inspirations and their inclusion in our latest exhibition ‘Double Take’.
Lucas Dupuy (b. 1992) has developed a distinctive artistic language that aims to find an intersection between the interconnected subjects of science and nature. Through his atmospheric works, he explores both their aesthetic appeal and practical applications. He uses technology in his thinking process but preserves a manual realisation that grants his body of work a profound organic aspect.
Jack Warne (b. 1995) work is recognized for its innovative integration of digital techniques and transmission of personal narratives. His paintings explore the interplay of technology and visual art through the prism of memory and perception, delving deeper into the subject with the use of augmented reality.
LVH: You both integrate digital tools in the process of creating your paintings, how do you perceive the growing presence of technology in the production of art?
LUCAS D: I think it is a really exciting time, artists are engaging with new materials and techniques.
Currently I am using a CNC router to cut reliefs into Valchromat, then using these reliefs I create graphite rubbings on paper. Using a computer controlled machine has been a real learning curve to kind of give away the control of making objects to a coded system. I want to engage with the contrast between the tactile craft element and the machine.
JACK W: Digital technologies’ presence and influence in art and art production are incredibly profound. This reflects society’s evolution, particularly in the past decade, where the growth and integration of digital systems in our daily lives are unprecedented and cannot be ignored. As an artist, my role is to be a vessel, studying, living, and reflecting on what it means to be human at this point in time. I aim to create beauty, intrigue, and offer a perspective into moments that might be forgotten but are deeply meaningful to us as humans. When people experience my work, I want them to focus on the experiences that define them as humans, not as machines.
LVH: On that note, is it something you have always considered an integral part of your practice or did you come to it while progressively developing your visual language?
JACK W: I began utilising technology to create my art out of necessity. While a scholar at the Royal College of Art, I could no longer afford to buy physical paint. This predicament led me to discover profound methods to articulate the images I wanted to create, heavily influenced at the time by Mid-century Abstract Expressionists like Willem de Kooning and Helen Frankenthaler. I found I could imbue the sensations I felt when seeing their physical paintings, propelling my then-embryonic practice forward. Now, long after graduating, I still use many of these techniques, along with other exciting production methods. Throughout this development, my relationship with digital systems became a focal point of my artistic research. I began questioning the technologies themselves and their effect on our perceptions and consciousness, specifically looking at companies like Elon Musk’s Neuralink. Because I grew up blind due to genetic corneal dystrophy, this traumatic experience gave me a unique perspective and started my obsession with physiological glitches and virtual errors.
LUCAS D: I think it has always played an important role within my practice. Growing up during the Information Age, the internet and photoshop slowly became a part of my life as a teenager. Using these tools early on informed my way of working in the studio, even in subtle ways. Technology became an integral medium in all areas of my practice from designing books to producing music and collaging imagery.
The other digital media that has played a huge role in the development of my practice is video games. I have been referencing games such as Half life 2 episode 1 & Deus Ex. These games have incredible level design and environments. The colour palettes and the kind of blurry graphic quality of these early 2000’s games is something that really Inspires the paintings with the grainy and hazy textures.
I work in a lot of different ways in the studio. Recently I have been producing hundreds of small airbrush works on paper. I find them really useful to work out certain compositions or movements. This process is very integral to the development of the mark making within the paintings. I then take these works on paper and start cropping, zooming and collaging them together psychically & digitally.
LVH: Both your works play with that tension, they blur the line between the digital and the manually produced, how do you perceive them? How would you like them to be perceived?
LUCAS D: I would like the viewer to be able to connect to the works via a feeling or a state, I am searching for a subtle calm feeling with the production of these works, Having the viewer engage with the work in a way that evokes some sort of serene feeling is what I would strive for within these works.
With this new series of paintings, I have been researching and referencing Fractals. They are geometric shapes that repeat themselves in scale patterns. This is sometimes called expanding or unfolding symmetry and it appears surprisingly frequently in nature.
The paintings could be perceived as really clean and polished in photographs, but in real life they are full of discrepancies and are clearly made by hand. The surface of these paintings is hessian, there are bumps and marks, the paint builds up on this surface creating many textures that could feel somewhat like a landscape or satellite imagery.
JACK W: My work epitomises the digital meeting the analogue. On the surface of each painting, colourful digitally sprayed ink resolves onto a hard, hand-rendered surface. This surface is made from carefully composed layers of curtain and soft fabrics, which bring their own textures to the painting. On top of the soft materials, I have drawn and layered tile adhesive and glue (a form of plaster), creating a unique final resolution where the ink meets, forming the final work. This balance is unique, and I aim to draw my audience in, making them question the physical nature of the work intimately, reinforcing the picture that the painting’s surface holds.
LVH: The artists presented in our show all have a relationship with technology and machinery in some aspects of their works, do you feel any connection or are inspired by any of them?
LUCAS D: Wade Guyton’s work really resonates with me, I visited his show ZWEI DEKADEN MCMXCIX–MMXIX at Museum Ludwig in 2019 and I found it incredibly inspiring. The variation of marks he is able to make with an inkjet printer is a process that I found very interesting. The discrepancies that these machines can create is something I am really drawn to.
JACK W: Yes, I feel very connected to many of the artists within the show. Lucas, a good friend and studio mate, and I talk a lot and share many ideas. It is a delight to be invited to the same show! Additionally, Katharina Grosse, Wade Guyton, Rudolf Stingel, and Christopher Wool have all directly influenced my work and practice since its inception.
LVH: Both of your works have an undeniable physical quality, do you think they could exist outside of the physical realm? Maybe in a digital realm?
JACK W: Hidden beneath the surface of each of my paintings exists the work’s digital counterpart, an augmented reality filter that enacts the looping moments of the dreamlike memories within the works.
LUCAS D: They can definitely exist outside the physical realm, but ultimately, I am always trying to bring physical objects into the practice, while the digital tools are still integral in producing the work.
LVH: Talking about the future, what does it hold for you, any upcoming exciting projects?
JACK W: Yes, I have many exciting projects! I will be participating at Frieze Seoul for the first time in September with Mai 36 Galerie. I also have my first solo booth at Artissima in November with Spiaggia Libera and my next solo exhibition with them in April 2025. Additionally, I have been invited to participate in a fascinating group show in London during Frieze week at a new art center in Shoreditch. The show is a new adaptation of “Sweet Harmony: Rave,” which originated from the Saatchi Gallery in 2019. It will showcase installations from myself, Conrad Shawcross, Richie Hawtin, and many more!
LUCAS D: Currently I am curating a performance at Belmonte Gallery to celebrate the closing of my solo show ‘One panoramic view after another will unfold’ at Belmonte gallery in Madrid. I am also working on a collaborative sound project with producer Pavel Milyakov.
In Conversation with Casey Bolding on Painting the Texture of Change
This month, LVH Art spoke with Casey Bolding, an artist from a suburban town near Denver, Colorado, who has been living in New York since 2013. His works create immersive environments through a harmonious blend of muted colors, where figures appear to emerge or fade away.
Rather than relying on vivid hues, his pieces are subtle yet dynamic, featuring rich textures and balanced compositions. Casey discusses his exploration of plaster, his fascination with abandoned spaces and decaying walls, the artists who have influenced him, and more in our interview.
Casey has an upcoming show at Polina Berlin Gallery in New York in May 2025.
LVH Art: Your works often convey a sense of fragility or things on the verge of falling apart – are you actively thinking about these things when you paint?
Casey Bolding: I think it’s something that I’m sensitive to. When I’m outside, looking at other surfaces and gathering inspiration I’m attracted to things that are attritioning and fading away. My works are about the kind of wearing away of the current state of things and accepting that your life disperses in different ways. It’s about accepting the inevitability of people coming and going, how relationships change, and learning to be present with the way things fall apart.
LVH Art: Texture and using plaster are key features in the work – when did you discover the material and why do you think it is such a big part of your practice?
Casey Bolding: After high school, when I was trying to figure out my next move as an adult, I started working for my uncle. He was doing faux finishing on buildings—applying these kitschy, old-world techniques to homes in the suburbs of Colorado. I got to have my hands on a lot of really interesting stuff. I didn’t really consider it as part of vocabulary or tools to use until the past couple years, where I started re-visiting some of those memories from working there. The physicality of plaster and the idea of plaster I think also came back to me in New York because I wanted to bring this physical outside world into my paintings. I grew up painting on trains in Colorado, like freight trains and painting walls outside. When I moved to New York it was a lot more competitive. I was still really interested in painting outside and doing graffiti and having opportunities where it wasn’t so cutthroat to find a space. So I ended up in a lot of abandoned buildings in and around New York.
LVH Art: Can you elaborate on the idea of painting on abandoned or decaying buildings, and how this fits into your creative process?
Casey Bolding: I was painting on walls that were actually falling apart as I worked on them. I’m really drawn to those kinds of spaces, and I love doing the least amount possible to them, because they’re so sound on their own. They’re beautiful spaces to me. I also connect with the idea that what I paint there isn’t for anyone else—it’s just for that space, just for that experience. It’s like inserting yourself into a small moment of time where you can be creative and let the piece exist temporarily for that purpose alone. It’s incredibly spontaneous, which gives me the freedom to explore and often leads me to conclusions I never would have reached otherwise. A lot of it’s also the adventure and the camaraderie of it. It’s almost like going out hunting—you’ve got the materials on your back, heading into the wild. The same goes for finding wood for some of my frames. Working in these abandoned spaces or with discarded objects—this is pure joy to me.
LVH Art: What attracts you to using reclaimed wood for framing your works?
Casey Bolding: The wood I use is lath and plaster, which was used to insulate homes before they started using the pink insulation material we have today. Every old house around here has these insulating planks of wood, so when places are being renovated and the houses are being demoed, I’ll usually go up to the guys doing the demolition and ask for those planks. I’ll go in and grab a bunch. There’s often a language barrier there too which is interesting. I’m just saying, “I just want pieces of old wood,” and they’re like, “What are you talking about? What do you get out of this?” In general It’s difficult to communicate the excitement I feel about these ephemeral objects, things that are almost like dirt. The wooden frames, I think, fit into my practice in the sense that they convey this same idea of things falling apart. Depending on the house or the home, it’s almost like adding one more layer or story to the work. It wasn’t intentional at first—I was just experimenting with what framing something would look like. Then I went out and bought brand new wood from Home Depot, but on my bike ride back, I came across the old wood. I ended up trying out that old wood too, and it just made sense. But the wood frame works for some of the works, but not all.
LVH Art: What’s your process when starting a painting? Do you work from reference, or is it more intuitive?
Casey Bolding: The paintings start without any clear reference or direction. Once shapes or positions begin to form, I start to see figures in them. Then I begin to dig into references, which come from all sorts of places—old family photos, pictures my sister sends me of her kids, or photos I’ve taken myself. Lately, I’ve even started intentionally taking photographs with the idea of how they might be used in a painting. But I really don’t know what I’ll paint until I’m doing it, and if I search too hard for it, it won’t show up. So sometimes, I need to be patient with the process.
LVH Art: How do you choose your colors, and what draws you to those more muted or mixed tones?
Casey Bolding: Yeah, I think I moved away from really high saturation colors because of graffiti. I used to paint with all these guys, and it was just bright glitter everywhere, really assaulting your eyes, especially in New York it’s everywhere. With these more mixed colors, though, there’s a subtle life to them that to me is more interesting than pure colors. It actually started when I went to the supply shop and found buckets of cheaper paint, ones where they’d made some kind of mistake. I’d end up designing the piece around that main material – the “shitty” paint. But even now that I can get better quality paint, I’m still drawn to these more mixed, muddy paints.
LVH Art: I’d like to ask about your work Funnel Cake (2024). To me, it feels like traveling through time—reading from top to bottom, like an archaeological dig uncovering the truth. Is there a specific way you want viewers to engage with this piece or your work in general? And are there particular stories you intend to tell through your work?
Casey Bolding: I don’t think it’s that specific. There are certain paintings where memories definitely come up for me. But I’m not really driven by narrative, and I don’t want my work to be interpreted in just one way. I mean, if people see Funnel Cake as a story read from top to bottom, that’s fine. For me, what’s most important is the composition—the way the piece is put together and how all the parts of it are resonating. Like the way you would listen to a song. Once that feels right, then I start looking at the big picture and start trying to have it congeal. A lot of subtraction can happen during this process. Often some of the most beautiful moments of a painting get wiped away because they serve no purpose in the larger image.
LVH Art: Are there any artists, creators, or individuals who have influenced your work?
Casey Bolding: There’s a French graffiti artist who’s passed away, SAEIO, whose work still inspires me and reminds me of the ocean of possibilities in painting. RB Kitaj is another painter who does that for me. Then there’s guys like Arthur Okamura and Diebenkorn, whose deep sensibility of materials really resonates with me, as well as the way their works resemble expansive aerial landscapes, almost as if you’re gazing down from a plane. When I was young, Robert Rauschenberg, especially in his collage works, was another major influence. His collage works gave me the feeling I could work with the materials in the same way he did — squeezing them into place, creating compositions from what’s available. Mamma Anderson stays nearby at all times too as well as Stanislava Kovalciova — two of the greatest in my lifetime. Brutal and abbreviated with just enough finesse to make you feel like you could be a painter too.
